


On the Trail

by Rosewood_Writes



Series: Faded [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 09:57:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17020500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosewood_Writes/pseuds/Rosewood_Writes
Summary: After the explosion, Iron Bull wakes up to find himself alone. When he finds Ethira's trail, he sets off to find her.





	On the Trail

Bull groaned as he awoke. He kept his eyes closed for a moment as he let life flow back into him. His head pounded, and every muscle in his body ached. He had only vague memories of the events of yesterday. He remembered fighting, but not much else after that.   
“Damn, Krem. Must have been some night last night, huh?” He chuckled. When he didn't answer, Bull frowned. “Krem?” He opened his eye and grunted as he looked around the dark forest. The rest of the day’s events flooded back to him. “Oh. Right.”   
He pushed himself to a sitting position, brushing off the dirt and pine needles. He looked around, taking in the pitch black forest. The sun was gone. The nightlife of the forest was stirring. He could hear wolves baying, owls screeching. Not good.   
Turning in a circle as he stood, he grounded himself in his surroundings. Without any real light to go by other than the dim moonlight, it was impossible to tell where he was. The terrain looked painfully similar in every direction. He looked up, hoping to gain some semblance of his position from the stars, but the canopy blotted most of them out.   
The air smelled vaguely of smoke and blood. He turned in a circle to pinpoint the smell. In the low light, he could see the skid mark he’d made when the explosion had flung him into the trees. With a shrug, he picked up his blade and set off into the woods, back towards what he hoped was the battlefield.   
The battlefield was a mess. Bodies were strewn everywhere. The dying were moaning, unable to move. He stood in the center, taking in the large scorch mark. It had to have been Ethira’s work. Fire was her thing. He’d seen her get stabbed. It made sense. She panicked, created a blast to save herself.  
“Damn, Boss. You sure know how to fuck shit up,” He muttered under his breath. He looked around the outskirts, but there was no sign of any sort of camp. They must have set up farther away, in case more templars came. Or the others were still getting up off their asses too.   
He picked up a branch out of one of the burning piles of brush and walked the perimeter. There were footprints all over the place, ruts where bodies had been dragged across the ground, all of them leading in the same general direction. So one side had collected some of their their wounded, leaving the mortally wounded and dead behind.   
He paced the bodies, looking for any familiar faces amongst the dead, killing any of the living templars he found. No one was familiar, thankfully. Just soldiers he never knew the names of. A couple of them he’d shared a drink with the night before. What a waste, he thought to himself.   
He paused as he came across a blood trail. He knelt down and dipped two fingers in one of the small puddles. It led off into the forest, alongside a set of dainty footsteps. Every few steps, a little hole marked the ground, probably from a staff.  
“Boss.” He blew out a sigh. Judging by the amount, she was hurt pretty bad. He set off into the forest after the trail. If she wasn’t dead, she soon would be. Fresh blood would catch the attention of a lot of predators. A wounded soldier and hungry wolves were a bad mix. 

 

The night didn’t scare Iron Bull. Most creatures that prowled the dark were smart enough not to mess with him. With a torch in hand and axe in the other, he was pretty much in the clear. The same couldn’t be said for Ethira unfortunately.   
Unlike him, she was small, an easy target for hungry predators. And she was wounded, badly from the looks of the trail he was following. It was a wonder that she hadn't lost consciousness yet. She was a tough one, he’d give her that.   
The farther her trail went, the more erratic her steps became, a leg slipping here and there. Uneven spacing between the staff marks signaled that she was relying on it as a crutch more than a weapon. On more than one occasion, she had fallen, only to get back up and keep trekking onward. What worried him was how far she had gone into the forest. Where she was running, or what she was running from made little sense. More than likely, she was in panic mode, every nerve, every fiber of her being telling her to flee, to put as much distance between her and the fight as possible. Out of her wits, for sure, and possibly concussed.   
He paused when he spotted something gleaming in the darkness ahead. As he drew nearer, he bent down to examine the area. A dagger was lying amidst the needles, along with more blood. The blade was covered with blood, albeit dried. A lack of bodies and tracks indicated that Ethira had rested for a minute and used the dagger to cauterize her wounds or make bandages out of her shirt.   
The trail led onward, deeper into the forest, this time without a significant blood spatter. With the dagger in his hand, he followed the footprints and staff marks. The sooner he found her the better.   
Dawn was breaking. The forest was turning shades of grey. Black masses became trees and rocks. The horizon was turning teal. Iron bull stomped out his makeshift torch, relying on the low light instead. No point in drawing unnecessary attention to himself. It would be light soon enough  
The further he followed, the more he was beginning to worry. Wolf tracks had converged on Ethira’s trail. Several wolves. He picked up the pace, dreading what he may find ahead.   
A body came into view. He clenched his jaw for a minute, but thankfully it was just a wolf that was crawling with flies. A wound to the wolf’s forehead marked the killing blow. Bull dipped his fingers in the pool of blood, rubbing it between his fingers. It was cold; Ethira still had quite a lead on him it seemed.   
He followed the displaced needles, rubbing his chin as he tried to piece together what had happened. A large spatter of blood ran off into the forest, probably an injured wolf. Ethira’s tracks began to favor the left leg, possibly from a bite or bad fall. It was hard to tell.   
A trail of frost marked where she had used her magic, probably to try to put some distance between her and the pack. Some of the needles were scorched-signs of fire. The wolf prints circled the ashy ring before taking off into the woods. Ethira must have frightened them off, surrounded herself in flame for protection. Her trail went in the opposite direction. With no other worrying signs, he followed   
“You better be alive when I find you , Boss,” He muttered to himself as he set off again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for such a late update! I've been working a LOT these last couple weeks. More stories will be updated later this coming week!


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